


death's debtor

by RK7200



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Denial of Feelings, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Sad My Unit | Byleth, Touch-Starved, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, byleth can see and feel how people die, sorta - Freeform, sothis as a whimsical and cruel goddess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-11-08 16:23:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20838494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RK7200/pseuds/RK7200
Summary: You are going to die,Byleth thinks. Yet the words will never be able to reach them.Or,Byleth knows when and how people die, yet he cannot speak of it. He can change it, of course, but the price will fall entirely on him.Not that it's going to stop Byleth.





	1. touch and go

Byleth knows the feeling of death through touch.

He remembers being young and toddling around. Age unknown, but head somewhere around his father’s hips. No calluses nor scars on his hands then and a wooden sword was all he knew to wield. 

His father off to another job and Byleth stood by the side, watching with idle eyes as another bandit fell by his father’s lance. 

“You shouldn’t watch that, you know,” Theo, young and full of teenage exuberance, said. His eyes were a doe brown that matches with his dull blond hair. Freckles lines his cheeks and defined his smile. “Seriously, why do I have to be here, again, while everyone is off fighting?”

“Me,” Byleth answered, drawing his wooden sword closer to himself. Theo laughs. “Yeah, that’s right, you troublesome little thing. Now come here, you shouldn’t be seeing that much blood for your age.”

“You don’t know my age,” Byleth snaps, although it only made Theo chuckle. 

“Yeah, Cap’ doesn’t know your age either, but hell, you’re like tiny, so you’re probably young,” Theo explained, moving closer to Byleth. Arms coming around to hold Byleth, covered by thin fabric, his hands reaching out to cover Byleth’s eyes and-

Byleth sees red. 

_“Remus-” he says, something wet in the back of his throat-_

_A scream. He looks down, blood coating his fingers as he touches his abdomen. The color like a washed-out painting, dyed with age. _

_It hurts, it hurts so much-_

_A one, two, and-_

_The pain stops. _

“See? Isn’t that better?” 

Byleth frowns. Eyes still covered by warm hands, his eyes flicker down.

The blood is still there. 

It hurts.

* * *

His father walks towards him, lance bloody and armor just the same. He sighs, tired and it ages him even further. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Some didn’t make it today, the usual business,” Jeralt answered, his shoulders seem to droop with the weight of his words. 

For some strange reason, Byleth asked, “What about Theo?”

Jeralt studies him for a moment, with complex eyes and red freckles on his cheeks. “You mean that kid that would babysit you?”

Byleth nods.

“Oh, he died,” Jeralt said, Byleth does not react beyond the slight downturn of his lips. 

“How?” 

Jeralt brows scrunched further, as he sets his lance down. “Anything wrong, kiddo?”

Byleth shakes his head, nails forming crescents in his palm. “No, how did he die?” 

Jeralt made a cutting motion near his abdomen and says, “Quick cut that probably nicked something, he died fast, almost no pain at all.”

“Did he say something before he died?” Jeralt frowns further.

“A name I think, Re- Re- something.”

Re- 

Remus. 

Oh, oh. 

Byleth looks down at his own stomach, remembering the way his hands were coated red and the way it hurts just to whisper out his beloved’s name.

He remembers the pain. 

_“See? Isn’t that better?”_

* * *

It was a coincidence, Byleth thinks. Trying to convince himself with the zeal of a child. A mere happenstance and no more. 

Yet a day later, Adrianna- a woman with amber hair and pretty blue eyes- gives him a quick hug as per usual and-

_He can feel nothing but water around him. There was pressure on his head and jeers from above him. He can’t move, he can see the algae and the sand underneath him. Yet- _

_He can’t breath-_

_Help-_

“What’s wrong, Byleth?” Adrianna asked. Concerned eyes peering down at him. He shakes his head, fingers wrapped tightly around her as he feels the water fill his lungs. 

Later, around three days or so, they were off to another mission. This one near the ocean and it was as though blaring horns played in Byleth’s ears as he watches the battle unfold, his eyes trained on the woman with amber hair and sharp lance. 

He watches as she trips, her enemies getting the better of her as she falls backward. Their jeers as they push her head into the water and-

Byleth runs.

He ignores his watcher for the day as they scream for him to come back. He runs with an iron dagger in his hands and a vision in his eyes as he stabs the man holding her head underwater. The man screams, letting go of her as Adrianna’s head snaps upwards as she rolls away from the water. Gasping for air. The man throws Byleth off, but soon enough Adrianna was onto him again, rising up like a warrior of old as she smashes down with a jagged rock. 

She smiles at him. “Thanks, kid.”

He tries to smile back but he can feel nothing but water filling his lungs and Byleth falls into the darkness.

* * *

Byleth wakes up to pain. And when he tried to breathe in he could feel nothing but water. 

Yet as he looks at Adrianna and her bright smile he could feel none of this. 

“What happened to following orders you brat,” Jeralt said, pinching his cheeks. But there was something gentle in the way he was patting Byleth’s back. 

“Jeez, you really gave me and Captain here a scare,” she admonished, gently rowing his hair back.

She touches his scalp and he can feel nothing but pain and the lack of air. She touches him and he feels nothing except the claws of death clinging to his soul. 

Yet he nods, his heart light as she laughs.

* * *

Adrianna dies, later, surrounded by the ocean that she so treasures. 

Except this time she was stabbed, clean through the heart, falling onto the shoreline before dying. 

Byleth could do nothing but watch as the water faded from his lungs and he could breathe once more. 

He doesn’t cry.

Byleth learns what fate is as Adrianna smiles at him for the last time.

* * *

“What are you?” the girl asked. 

“A calamity,” he said and she laughs, just like Adrianna did. 

He wonders how she’ll die.


	2. there's no choice, not for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sothis and the beginning of the game

“A calamity,” the girl repeated. “Tell me more.” 

Her eyes were glowing, he realizes, shining along with the lights in this stone palace. Neon green specks, like fireflies, litter the place as she leans against her throne. Her eyes glow, he realizes, like something divine. 

“What is there to say?” he answered. He feels as though he should kneel, under the light of her eyes. Feeling like he should kneel and bow his head, offering himself up for divine judgment. She looks young, he thinks, distantly. 

“You’re touched by death,” the girl said. Her finger curling towards herself as the specks of light around them gathers at his feet. “That’s odd, no?”

The light gathers around him as she beckons once more. “Come.” 

The specks spin around him and suddenly once they disperse he was in front of her. Standing before her like this, just a step below her throne, makes him realize how small she is. 

She holds her arm up. “You can see death, yes?” 

He finds that he cannot lie, not to her, not to this girl with power in her veins and magic in her eyes. He nods. 

She smiles, it was a pleasant thing. Childlike and innocent, something that he never was and never will be. Her cheeks shine in the unnatural green light and her hair seems to move with the divine hymn that floods the halls. She opens her lips, jagged teeth poking out from underneath, as she says, “See my death.” 

He draws back, a foot placed on the step below. Only for a solid mass to stop his descent. 

“Come now, it isn’t hard, just one touch,” she crooned. The light behind him shining along with her eyes, like a divine verdant flame. 

“Why?” he asked. 

She pauses for a moment, tilting her head to the side, as she studies him. “I lack my memory, you see, remember nothing at all.” 

Green flames spark in her eyes. 

“Well, not nothing. Not anymore. I’ve remembered something, you- you’re Byleth right?” she said, a chill runs down Byleth’s back. “Yes, yes you are. You’re Byleth, son of Jeralt. Born on the first of the Guardian Moon, correct?” 

He nods. 

“See, I’ve just remembered, I was born on the same day,” she continued, a grin overtaking her. If she was any normal girl it would’ve been cute, but instead, it was something haunting. “Curious, right?” 

He cannot find it within himself to nod, to do anything really, in front of her. This girl with inhumane eyes and divine presence. 

“You and I, we’re connected, somehow,” she explained, swaying from side to side, “So I want to see, how far our connection is. If you seeing my death will give me another memory back.”

She draws her arm up again, higher this time. “Come and tell me what you see.” 

He tries to take a step back, but it is as though his feet were frozen solid. 

“This isn’t a request, you know,” she said, laughing, “So come on, now.” 

Something pushes him from behind, and he stands in front of her yet again. His hand reaching out towards her, she smiles up at him.

His hand touches her arm and-

There is only torment. 

Like molten fire in his bones and swords slicing through his organs. As though his blood had been replaced by the sun and his lungs by water, as though he was breathing in the fire of hell and poison etching itself onto his back. It is as though fire and ice had consumed his very being from the inside and out. 

This is a divine suffering, he thinks, an agony that could make gods bow. 

He draws back this time and she lets him. She sighs in disappointment, the flames fading from her eyes as though doused. She stretches out her hands again, he flinches back before she sighs once more. 

“Relax, there is nothing more to be gained from this exchange,” she said, waving her hands as light surrounds him once more. 

He blinks and he was once on the ground, staring up at her. Her tiny figure potent with power as she closes her eyes. The lights around them dimming with each passing moment. 

“I’m not giving up, you know,” she said, a yawn passing through her lips. “You and I? We’re connected somehow.” 

The light pools around her once more, as she rests her head on the arm of her throne. Her eyes were lidded and neon as she smiles at him. “You’re the key to my memory, I know that much.” 

Light flashes once more and-

“Goodbye, Byleth, come visit again, won’t you?”

He collapses onto his knees, weak and human. 

“Not that you have a choice.” 

Byleth fades as laughter rings into his ears, childlike and haunting.

* * *

Byleth wakes up with pain in his bones and a child’s laughs in his ears. 

“Nightmare?” his father asked. Peering down at Byleth with warm brown eyes, human and dull. Unlike that of the girl. 

With speed meant for felling enemies, Byleth lunges at him, bare hands coming to clasp at his father’s, feeling the pain dulling to soft shimmer. The hand is warm, Byleth notes, warm and alive and no pain struck him as he holds onto it. 

“Was it bad?” 

Byleth slightly nods. Remembering the way fire had etched itself into his bones and the way his phantom heart was crushed as a thousand blades pierce his skin. 

Jeralt’s other hand come to cover Byleth’s back, as though Byleth were a mere child. 

Byleth can still feel pain, of course, the torture of blades slicing through his skin and fire on his lips, but these were familiar ones. They were ones that he had chosen to take on, ones that were meant to fell a mortal and not deities. 

Byleth can still feel the pain of how a fire would burn his father to ashes and blades bleeding him dry. 

But it is nothing in comparison to the girl and the methods that were used to slay a god. 

Jeralt’s hand is warm around Byleth’s back, “Don’t worry, I’m here.” 

Byleth releases his hand, drawing back from his father.

“Bad dream,” Byleth answered, for there is no comfort nor reassurance that Byleth knows of

His father huffs before he, too, draws away. His warmth gone, blades and fire coming to replace it. 

“Bandits are invading the village, sir!” a mercenary yelled, and both father and son ducks out. 

He meets three young nobles with bright eyes.

How will you die? he wonders, feeling the slide of fabric over his hands as he dons his gloves and gauntlet. 

He does not wish to see their deaths. 

_“You will, in time, because there was never a choice, not for you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sothis is definitely way different in this au, but i hope you guys will come to like her regardless! I really will enjoy writing the pain and suffering that my boy's about to go through and I'm glad that you guys enjoyed this concept!
> 
> please leave a comment on your thoughts, what you liked, what you didn't, just about anything to make the author super happy!


	3. of forests, oceans and wisterias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> byleth finally interactions with the three lords, sees another death and stops another death, at a price, of course.

The song of battle lulls through Byleth as he looks between the three children and his father. The man nodding towards him, nudging him forward. Towards the frontlines and into another battlefield. 

Byleth takes a step before pausing, sliding his gloves off, revealing the calloused hand underneath. He reaches towards his father, the man sighing in exasperation as he rolls his eyes but lowers his hand towards Byleth. Byleth didn’t react, only gently grazing Jeralt’s hand with his fingers and-

_Pain. _

_His side hurt, he can hear the scream of a girl and the flash of an axe as he falls. He sees a girl with the moon for her hair and flowers for eyes as he falls off his steed. He turns his head to see a man, scruffy and old, a bandit. In the man’s hands were an axe tinged with red, his blood- he realizes. And- _

_He is dying. _

_“Byleth-”_

_Yet there is nothing but pain-_

Byleth moves his fingers away, blinking away the blood in his eyes and the death in his body. 

“Done with your ritual, kid?” Jeralt asked, retracting his hand once more. “Dunno why you do it, aren’t you supposed to be embarrassed to be even talking with your old man at this age?”

“I will lead today,” Byleth said, voice dull as usual. He covers his hand once more, as he walks forward again. “You stay back.” 

Jeralt laughs. “One of your bad days?” 

Byleth didn’t answer. Hearing the voice of a dead man instead. Hearing the man’s ever-fading whisper as he calls for his son. Feeling the way his heart would slow to a stop as his fingers turn cold. Remember the way that he thinks, “Ah, so this is it. Sorry, kiddo.” 

He remembers that and he cannot see anything but red. 

_“Defying Death, a brave one aren’t you,”_ a young girl said, laughing into his ears. _“Or just simply another fool.”_

He flinches minutely, eyes scanning the field around him. Only the moon shines above them, with only humans about. No goddess to be seen. 

_“That doesn’t matter to me though, whether you’re courageous or idiotic,”_ the girl continued, inside his head, _“I just want to see how a mortal defies Death.”_

His sword shines with the light of the moon. Its shine reflecting back to him a girl with light green hair and divine eyes. She smiles, bestial and childlike all at once before fading once more. 

_“Don’t disappoint me,”_ she whispered, an invisible weight lays on his shoulders as though she had wrapped her arms around his neck. Before disappearing once more as the giggles fade, replacing her touch with chill and terror instead. 

“Ready?” he asked them, dressed in bright colors that did not belong on a battlefield. Focusing on the girl in red most of all, with her pale hair and unnatural eyes. They all nod, although some were more resolute than others, Byleth didn’t care either way. “Stick close to me.” 

They were at least good listeners, that he will give them. Better than some nobles that he had to guard before, whose ears were so filled with their ego that they could barely hear the warning to duck. 

The bandits come easily enough, with their heavy steps and heavier breathing they weren’t ideal for ambushes in the first place. Their weapons are dull and rusted, collected off some poor man’s corpse or so. They will be easy enough to deal with, he thinks. His eyes continuing to scan the field looking for one man in particular. 

He couldn’t spot the man, amidst the crowd of bandits that roar for the destruction of the village. But that is well enough, for no bandit will escape today, alive. That Byleth swears, seeing the red on his hands and the pain of death as he had laid gasping for life. 

“What are your orders?” the boy next to him asked. His eyes a light green. Like the forest and grass on a summer’s day, Byleth thinks. Lively and beautiful. He had seen those before, once. He had seen how they would glaze over and breathe their last as he could only watch. 

“Incapacitate them,” he said. Seeing a figure with maroon hair and veridian eyes in the boy’s place. 

“Not kill?” the other boy asked softly, the way he was clutching his lance betrays his nervousness. Yet there was steel in his eyes and a resigned air about him. 

“No,” he answered, studying the boy’s eyes. Like the ocean and sky, he thinks. Like the calm of the ocean and the light of the skies. Like the oceans that look Adrianna, Byleth thinks. A beautiful and tragic thing. Filled with life and danger. 

“Do you underestimate us?” the girl asked, hostile as a frown falls over her face. Her eyes, Byleth thinks, are like wisterias. Delicate and frail until they themselves become poisonous and lethal. Sweet and pleasant until her toxins would grab at your life and never give back. “Because we are children in your eyes?” 

“Not underestimate, no,” he answered, shaking his head slightly. “You are children, yes. But weak? No.” 

“Then why?” she asked again, her frown less severe than before. 

“You are children, and I am a mercenary,” he answered, watching as the bandits approach them slowly.

The girl looks about ready to argue again, yet Byleth dashes forward letting his blade sing as he closes the gap between it and the bandit’s neck. A beat, and two, and-

The bandit falls. Quick and simple. His artery severed and the man will no doubt die quickly, if not painfully He will deserve it, Byleth thinks. They all do. 

“I am a mercenary,” he repeated. “I kill for a living and you do not. And that is that.” 

They all focus on his bloody blade. Forest shrinks back, his face turning paler, looking at though he wanted to turn away and yet could not. Ocean, once again, looks resigned. Looks grim and tired, and Byleth knows then that the boy had killed. Wisteria, on the other hand, looks entirely unflinching, although the tremors on her grip betray her fear.

You are children, he wants to remind them. You are not meant to kill like me. 

Not like Byleth, when he was reaching his father’s shoulder- around their height, if he were to guess- not like Byleth, who had only known of Death and its cold embrace. 

You are children, he wants to say. You are not meant for the business of death. 

The other bandits shrank back, after seeing their comrade’s quick fall. 

“Now, go,” Byleth urged, gesturing forward. “Incapacitate them and I will do the rest.”

They nod. 

Good, Byleth thinks, dashing forward once more. Let Death not touch any of you tonight. 

_“Death touches all, some sooner than later. And these children? Their time will come soon enough.”_

She was still here, he thinks. Of course. And- 

What did that mean?

_“It is their fate, Byleth, their fate decrees it so.”_

She does not speak any further and a chill settles in his spine once more.

* * *

He spots the man soon enough. It wasn’t hard to remember the man’s disgusting face as he stands over his father’s corpse, victorious and triumphant. 

He runs towards the man, red in his eyes and murder on his mind as he slams his feet against the man’s knees. The man groans as he falls to the ground, pathetic and weak. On his knees, beneath Byleth as he groans in pain. 

Suffer, he thinks. Suffer in the flames of the afterlife. I wish you nothing but agony and pain. Nothing but the image of me now, standing above you as you die. As you bleed to death for the man you will kill. As you die for his life, I will wish nothing but for your pain. 

He raises his blade for one more painful, and final cut and-

“Wait!” a voice sounded, breaking him out of his thoughts. “We need him alive.”

“Why?” he asked, rougher than before. Why should this scum live when my father couldn’t? 

“He and his bandits had attacked our fellow classmates, all noble children, and there is no doubt that they would want answers,” Wisteria said. Her axe pointed to the ground as she answers. 

“He is a bandit and that’s all that’ll need to be said,” he answered as he raises his blade once more. 

The girl dashes towards him laying a gentle hand on his shoulder as she stands between him and the bandit. “Please let me capture him instead.” 

“No,” he said, not willing to take any chances. Yet the mere moment of distraction was enough for the bandit to rise to his knees, pushing the girl towards Byleth as he runs. Byleth curses as the girl fall onto him, clinging to his arms. His hand reaching out steady her as the bandit flees, unable to push the girl away fast enough to scatch up. 

Damn it all- damn this-

Yet pain spreads through him, like fire, catching on his sides as though a blade had crossed his skin there. He can feel the pain as it blooms on his skin, the shortness of breath as he adjusts himself, rebalancing onto the balls of his feet as he blinks blearily. He can almost feel the warmth of blood as it rushes from his side, the light faintness that comes from it all. 

“Are you alright?” Ocean asked, a hand reaching out steady him. He was warm, Byleth thinks feeling the heat through the thin fabric. Much like the summer sun and none too like death. How long has it been since there was a touch that warmed instead of burnt?

“Yes,” Byleth replies, a smile at his lips. “It’s alright now.” 

Ocean’s face seems to turn slightly redder after the reply, but Byleth paid him no heed. 

The pain of death once again etches itself onto his skin. One amongst dozens of other blades and scorches. He breathes in fire and blades stabbing into his skin. Pain settling into his blood as a new one blooms on his side. He feels blood dripping down his torso and legs. Feels the pain of fire burning him alive and numerous blades making a home on his body. 

_“You didn’t disappoint,”_ the girl says with a giggle, _“Shame you couldn’t fell that bandit, though. Be sure to not make such a mistake again.”_

What does that mean?

_“It is written in your fate, Byleth.” _Another fit of giggles._ “Just like how they are destined for Death, you are destined for loss. It matters not in the end whether you heed my warning or not.”_

A mortal does not know their fate, this Byleth knows. Not like how a Goddess can. But perhaps there was a reason that humans cannot hear the voice of gods. That there was a reason why humans cannot foresee their own fate. 

_“You will lose something, Byleth. But how many and who will be up to you and your choices alone.”_ A passing sigh as a chill once against settle in a place where his heart should be._ “Such a dreary fate you have…” _

A lullaby sounds in the distance as the pain of a thousand blades and fire scorching in his lungs roar once more. 

_“But that is your fate, one who is marked by Death. So, show me a terribly despairing and utterly human story, won’t you?”_

In the light of the moon, his blade shines a dull red. And in it, he sees a girl with too green hair and divine eyes staring back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed that! I wanted to make it that Jeralt dies to make sure that Byleth has a reason to step in, since he prob won't with the way this au had changed him and his reaction to strangers in peril. but yeah, writing this kind of sothis is really fun so i hope you guys like her! but yeah, more dimitri and jeralt in the next chapter. 
> 
> please leave a comment on your thoughts, what you like, what you dislike, just anything to make the author super happy and motivated!


	4. do you care for gods?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> byleth and sothis talk, and the conversation goes not so well for byleth.

The girl reflected in his blade opens her lips. _“Come.”_

Byleth falls into ancient hymns and divine magic. 

He wakes up with his knees tapered to the ground and his arms laying useless by his sides. 

“You’re here,” the girl said as she looks down upon him. Her legs crossed and her elbows propped on the arms of her throne. 

“You wished me here,” he answered in response as his body stays frozen. There is no choice for me but to obey, he thinks. 

She laughs, bells and blood. “Yes, I suppose so.” 

“So you’ve defied death,” the girl continued as embers glow around them along with her eyes. “I knew I could count on you.” 

You’ve said this, he thinks. You’ve seen it. 

She uncrossed her legs as she leans forward. “But let’s move onto grander subjects now.” 

Yet the words don’t leave his lips- can’t leave his mind. 

“I remember something now,” the girl continued as though she is unable to hear him. “My name, I remember my name!” 

The embers spark to life as they spin around her fingertips. Her joy is evident in their dance and the pitch of the hymns. 

“Isn’t that just wonderful?” the nameless girl asked as ember lights her features and her canines poke through. 

What does it matter to me? he thinks, yet his throat stayed clogged. What does the life of a goddess have to do with me?

“Of course it does,” the girl, still nameless, argued. Her arms crossing as she frowns. The embers turning a shade of vermilion. “Here I am, so concerned for your lowly affairs, and you treat me like such? With such indifference?” 

Her eyes glow once more. Sparked by righteous fury as the embers surround him now, their heat blazing around his prone form. 

“I do not care for gods,” he said as her grip loosens around his throats, her order for him to answer.

“Right,” the girl drawled. “You only care about your father, right?” 

He finds that he could speak, so he does. “Yes.” 

“You know, it would be a mighty shame if something were to happen to him, wouldn’t it,” she said as a cruel grin wounds itself around her lips. “Something, let’s just say, you wouldn’t see coming.” 

“You-” he begins before his throat is choked once more, by invisible claws that threaten to cut. 

“Hush, don’t you know manners?” The girl’s smiles stay vibrant and ancient as the embers return to an eerie green shade. “Well- as I was saying before you so rudely interrupt me- it would be a shame if he were to pass. A death that you can’t stop. But how could this be, you wonder?”

She stands up as she raises her hands, claws and all. As more embers appear, forming a figure. One with broad shoulders and a familiar scar on his jaw. 

You, he wants to say, what are you saying?

Copies of his father stand before him, made up of fireflies and a goddess’ will. Dozens, if not hundreds, all standing there. With his father’s stance and posture. With his scars and familiar warm eyes. 

“You will find that,” the girl said. “A little… divine intervention will keep that sight of yours in check, Seer.” 

With that, she brings her hands down. Byleth sees his father die. Each and every one of them. All felled in different ways. He can hear his father’s screams, the varying volume of his as he hears his father’s body hitting the ground. A familiar sound. A familiar sight. 

They are not real, this he knows, but- 

But- 

“What do you want?” he rasped as her claws loosen from his throat. 

“What I want,” the girl drawled, waving her hand as the embers disappear once more. “Is a little more care.” 

He was lifted onto his feet as he stumbles over to her; his body moving from a will not his own. “A little more emotion.” 

He stands there, right below the steps to her throne as pressure causes his knees to cave and his body to hit the floor as he kneels. His forehead landing on the bottom step as he almost hisses. “A little more respect.” 

He pushes himself up as he looks up at her now; her figure appearing larger than life. “I do not want much, for I am a humble goddess.” 

Her figures appearing before him as her figure floats in front of him. “But what I want, I will get. Do you _understand?_”

He nods. For there is nothing else he could do. 

And she smiles, like power and madness. “Good.” 

“What is your name?” he asked as he lays his forehead against the steps of the stairs. 

“Oh, you are curious about me?” the girl gasped, fake and terrible, as a clawed hand comes to lift his chin up. “My, how wonderful!”

“My name is Sothis,” the girl, the goddess, Sothis declared. With glowing eyes and hellish embers floating around them. 

“Sothis,” he repeated as he stares at her.

“You would do well to remember that name, Byleth,” Sothis cautioned. “It is only common for friends to know each other’s names, no?” 

“Sothis,” he hissed. 

“My, such hatred in your eyes,” Sothis commented as she laughs. Terrible and wretched. “But at least you care now, right?”

“Well,” Sothis continued as she curls a claw around his cheek. “You must be off now.”

His head still lifted, as though her claws were still beneath his jaw. 

“A terrible shame, I know,” she cooed, “But worry not, we’ll be meeting each other again, soon.” 

“Sothis,” he repeated. With something like fire roaring in his veins. “Sothis.” 

He remembers the way her hands drop and the way his father’s body would fall as he says, “Sothis.” 

She laughs. “I knew you were a quick learner.”

* * *

“Byleth?” A rough hand jostled him into wakefulness. “Are you daydreaming?’ 

No, I wish it were a dream, he thinks as he jolts. “No.” 

“You really blanked out there, kid,” his father noted as his warm hands come into contact with Byleth’s armor. “Well, the conversation we were having would’ve bored you regardless.” 

He hums as he sheathes his sword; the reflection of the goddess with green eyes and sharp canines no longer there. 

“Well, the only important thing is,” his father continued. “We’re going to Garreg Mach now.” 

He hums once more. Feeling the new burn around his side as he frowns. 

“You injured?” his father asked, his concern evident and it makes Byleth feels warm. 

“No,” Byleth answered once more, shaking his head gently. “Just an old wound.” 

“I swear you’ve got more ‘old wounds’ than me,” Jeralt whined, “With how often you mention them.” 

“Yes, well, I’m doing most of the fighting,” Byleth said as he turns on his heel to walk away. 

“Hey, that’s not true and you know it,” Jeralt complained as his arm wounds itself around Byleth’s neck as the man trails behind him. His arm would be warm, Byleth thinks. But he cannot remember a warmth that does not burn. Cannot remember that warmth after his sight and all that came with it. Yet he leans into the touch. Unable to feel much else than the heavy weight of Jeralt’s gauntlets, but it is enough. 

He glances behind to find three sets of eyes staring at his figure before turning away again. 

“That’s Captain Jeralt’s son?” 

“That appears to be the case. He certainly has the skills to back it up.”

“Skills that will be useful for the alliance, no doubt.” 

A shuffle. 

“That is if he doesn’t go to the empire first.” 

A huff. 

“Don’t be hasty Edelgard, he might just choose Faerghus instead.” 

A mocking laugh. 

“Just wait ‘till I make both Your Highnesses eat their words.”

“We’ll see.”

* * *

“So, you’re heading to Garreg Mach as well, huh?” Forest said as he walks by Byleth’s side. “The name’s Claude, by the way. Claude von Riegan.” 

“Byleth,” he says as he continues to walk. 

“Byleth no last name?” Claude asked as he leans towards Byleth. 

Byleth grunts. 

“A man of mystery I see.” Claude laughs as his hands come to cross behind his back. “I like it.” 

“Perhaps he just doesn’t want to speak to you, Claude,” Wisteria snapped as she approaches from behind. “And is too polite to rid himself of your presence.”

“That might be a bit rude, Edelgard, but I do agree,” Ocean said to the girl- Edelgard- as he also walks by Byleth’s side. 

“Not even defending me, Dimitri?” Claude accused as he frowns. “And here I thought we were friends.” 

“I am merely siding with the truth,” Dimitri answered bluntly. 

“Well, Byleth? Do you despise my presence so?” Claude looks up at him with fireflies for eyes. Blown wide in exaggeration as Byleth shrugs. “See? He doesn’t mind.” 

Both Edelgard and Dimitri huffs. 

“Anyways, have you ever been to the Leicester Alliance before?” Claude asked.

“Yes,” Byleth answers. “It’s a nice place. Full of…” He doesn’t quite recall. “... trees.” 

Claude laughs and for that Byleth was glad that he didn’t offend the boy. “Oh yeah? Well, if you join me you’ll see more than trees.” 

“And what about Faerghus?” Dimitri interrupted as he brings himself into the conversation. “Have you ever visited?” 

“There is a lot of snow, and cold,” Byleth answered honestly, watching as the boy’s face falls before continuing, “It is nice. A change from the usual.” 

Dimitri smiles and Byleth was glad that he had cheered the boy up. “Well, I have a proposition to make then. As crown prince of-”

“And the Adrestian Empire? Do you enjoy the sights there?” Edelgard interrupted as she elbows Claude out of the way. 

“It is nice as well,” Byleth answered just as quickly. “Tall buildings and nice machinery.” 

The girl seems to glow with pride as she smiles at him. A small thing it was, but he feels that it was the widest that he would ever see from her. “As the future empress, I entreat you to join the empire.”

“Wow, Edelgard, not letting anyone finish are you?” Claude chided as he sneaks up on her. “Awfully rude for a future empress.” 

“You must take the opportunities given to you, Claude,” Edelgard countered as she tries to wave him off. 

“I am the crown prince of Faerghus and I would like to take this opportunity to-” 

“Hold your horses there, Prince,” Claude yelled, “Don’t you go and take advantage now.” 

“One could try,” Dimitri mumbled. “Regardless, sir Byleth-” 

“Such a two-sided Prince you are, Dimitri,” Claude hissed as he grabs both Edelgard and Dimitri’s shoulder before pulling them away. 

The three continue to argue as he leaves them behind. Although something about their banter did bring a smile to his lips. 

“Fun trio, aren’t they?” his father asked as he also looks behind. “Wouldn’t expect nobles to act so, well, like brats.” 

Byleth shrugs. “It’s nice.” 

“Yeah, they’re so lively aren’t they,” Jeralt agreed. “Unlike a certain someone.”

“I’ve been told that I am mature for my age,” Byleth argued mildly. 

“Mature my ass,” Jeralt countered. “And who told you that bullshit?” 

“You did,” Byleth reminded. 

“What,” Jeralt asked flatly. 

“It was after the mission issued by House Gautier,” Byleth continued, “You were angry that Heir Gautier called me ‘weird’ so you told me that I was mature.” 

“Huh.” Jeralt puts his hand under his chin as he contemplates. “Maybe I did.”

Byleth snorts. 

“Regardless, we’re going to Garreg Mach Monastery now,” Jeralt said, “And let me just warn you to not trust the Archbishop there. Lady Rhea.” 

“Why?” Byleth asks, despite not even knowing what the title means. 

“She’s- well- let’s just say she’s a hard person to decipher,” Jeralt answered as he scratches his chin, “Her words have hidden daggers and those daggers have daggers. You know what I mean?”

Byleth nods.

* * *

As they walk through the gates of Garreg Mach, Jeralt seems to shuffle closer to Byleth. His stance wearier and his face sterner than it had ever been. 

“There she is,” his father mumbled as they both look up. “Lady Rhea.” 

The woman that stares down at him had light green hair and eyes that glow with the light of the sun. There was a pleasant smile on her lips but her eyes were eerie and they- they-

_“Oh? Can you feel her divinity?”_

The woman stares down at him. With divine power in her blood and ancient magic in her eyes and he-

“Sothis,” he hissed. 

“How do you even-” Jeralt startled before stopping. “Nevermind, you would do well not to say that name around here. Especially in front of Lady Rhea.” 

“That is the name of the Goddess,” Jeralt lectured, “To say her name is heresy and many have died for less.” 

The Goddess, Byleth thinks. An entity that was so foreign and yet-

_“Oh my, such a revelation. Is it not? Such a twist to this tale of ours. My, you truly know how to keep a goddess on her toes.”_

Sothis.

_“Do you care for gods now, Byleth?”_ the girl- the Goddess asked. 

You already know my answer. 

_“Of course, but it doesn’t hurt to hear it,”_ Sothis answered readily. _“So won’t you answer to make this goddess happy? If not, well, you already know, right?”_

“Of course, Sothis,” he hissed and she laughs. 

Terrible and wretched, what a goddess should be. 

_“You would do well to remember that, Byleth.”_

Lady Rhea looks down at him and he feels the same liquid fire towards her and her familiar eyes. 

She smiles and he wonders if he can see how a goddess dies, he wonders as a goddess' laughter rings in his ear and her claws hook around his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sothis is really different from the game, so let this chapter be the final warning for y'all. Soft Sothis is no longer in this fic and its basically all apathetic Sothis from here on out lol. I really enjoy writing this Sothis since she's fun and fits with the whole au and story. I hope you guys enjoy that, feel free to leave a kudo if you did lmao.
> 
> Anyways, please leave a comment on your thoughts, analysis, what you liked, what you disliked, just anything really, to make me super happy and motivated! I try to respond to every comment bc they make me so happy!


	5. how blasphemous thoughts are born

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth realizes what all gods are and is all the more resentful for it.

“So this is Byleth,” the woman said as she smiles at him. It is a gentle thing, he thinks, a beautiful thing. 

Would be, could be, if he didn’t know of the monster that lurks beneath those eyes. 

Instead, he knew, about the sharpness of her teeth and the sharp ears that were sure to await him beneath those wretched tresses. He knew, with certainty, that if he were to lift her hair right now that those wicked ears would await. Betraying her status as the inhumane thing she is. 

_“She’s a goddess, you know,”_ Sothis commented idly, _“Just like me.”_

That is why, he thinks as he frowns, I wish to tear her to pieces. 

_“My, is that dissent I hear? A bit of resentment?”_ He could feel her nails trailing down his nape as she laughs. _“Against me, of all people. And I have no idea why.”_

You know why, he thinks as he nods towards the woman. The beast who hid beneath a human’s skin. 

_“You think me cruel,”_ she whined, _“When I am so kind towards you.”_

Kind, he thinks with a guffaw threatening to escape, a benevolent goddess wouldn’t threaten like you. 

_“You’re lucky, that I’m so kind,”_ she hissed, _ “Lest your father be nothing but a cold corpse right now, Byleth.”_

“My, you’ve grown,” Rhea commented idly as she reaches for him. Byleth can already see the long claws of a goddess reaching out towards him and he moves back. Dodging out of her reach as he bows. 

“Don’t touch me,” he said, simple and sweet. 

“You-” the man by her side begins. One with green hair and similar eyes, with sharp ears hidden underneath his hair, no doubt and Byleth wants to snarl at him all the same. “To speak like such to-”

“It is quite alright, Seteth,” Rhea said as she smiles- fake, utterly fake and wretched. Like false sainthood and vile beasts, “I’m sure Byleth has his reasons.” 

Will you threaten my father, too? he wonders, will you hold him over me as well?

_“She’s not good enough for that.”_ Sothis scoffed. _ “I will be the only one who can control your father’s fate, Byleth. You best remember that.”_

I should be thankful, now, he thinks sarcastically, that you will threaten my father and not her. 

_ “I am stronger than her, my blood more ancient and my powers more divine,”_ Sothis answered, _“Would you rather your father’s fate rests in her hands or mine?”_

I would rather his fate be left in my hands, he thinks as he rejoins the conversation. 

“-et it rest, Rhea,” his father snapped, “The past should stay the past.” 

“You faked your death, Jeralt, I do not know how I can let it rest-” 

“Oh, it was for good reasons,” Jeralt interrupted, “Faking my death was for good reasons, Rhea, especially after what you did.”

“Oh, and pray tell, what did I do?” the woman asked as her face remains placid. As though she wasn’t fearful of his father’s anger, for a god does not care for mortals, not when they can crush them so easily. 

_“Hush, your father won’t die unless you anger me,”_ Sothis assured, _ “I promise that much, Byleth, take it as the promise of a goddess.”_

Eternal and true, he thinks, damning and like a noose around his and his father’s neck. 

_“Rather a slow noose than a swift blade, I think,”_ Sothis commented, _ “Both of you are already dying slowly, so I do not get the fuss.”_

“-know what you did-” 

“Are we going to bring back past wrongs now Jeralt?” Rhea interrupted, “I do not see how this is productive to our-”

“This whole conversation revolves around the past, _Lady_ Rhea,” Jeralt argued, “After what you did.”

“I did nothing,” Rhea denied with glaciers for eyes and thin lips. 

“Deny it all you want.” Jeralt sneers, “But I know the truth.” 

“You know nothing, Eisner,” Seteth snapped as he moves in front of Rhea, “And how dare you accuse Lady Rhea-” 

“It is _you_ who knows nothing,” Jeralt countered as he pulls Byleth away, “Now that we have escorted your brats back it’s time for us two to part. Farewell, Lady Rhea, hopefully forever this time.” 

“You can leave, Jeralt, but he cannot,” Rhea stated as Jeralt draws Byleth closer. 

“Now, what does that mean, Lady Rhea?” Jeralt drawled with a blade underlying his words. 

“You can leave, Jeralt, but your son cannot,” Rhea answered and Byleth can already see the resemblance between her and the girl. The way their threats come as easily to them as their breathing. 

“Is this a threat now, Rhea,” his father growled. 

“You can leave, but the Knights of Seiros will be deployed the moment you do,” Rhea replied. 

“Am I a criminal now?” Jeralt turns as he stands in front of Byleth. A familiar sight. 

“No, nothing like such,” Rhea answered as she smiles, “But I’d like for my dear friend’s child to stay here.” 

“Magda,” Jeralt repeated, “You mean Magda.”

“Yes, Magdalena.” Rhea nods. “She was very dear to me and I found that I am missing my godchild.” 

_“Magdalena, do you know what that means?”_

“Godchild?” Jeralt looks affronted.

“Yes, she wished that I would be Byleth’s godmother,” Rhea answered, “Begged me to protect him.”

His mother, he realizes, they were talking about his mother, Magdalena.

“I never heard of such-”

No, no I don’t, he thinks, and I don’t want to know either. 

“It matters not what you heard, Jeralt, it is what it is,” Rhea interrupted, “And I will carry out my duty as his godmother and your wife’s dying wish.”

_“Gift of God, that is what it means,”_ Sothis drawled, _ “Not much of a gift, though, I suppose, if she dies so quickly.”_

Gift of God, he repeats inside his head and wonders if she is the reason for his curse. 

Wonders how heavy a name that must’ve been and wondered if she had the same gift as he. 

“Are you really doing this, Rhea?” his father asked roughly, “Is this how it’s going to be?”

“I’m afraid so,” Rhea answered as she shakes her head softly, “I cannot let Magnalena’s wish die and I have many years to make up.” 

The air crackles with his father’s anger as Byleth sees the way his father’s face contorts into something ugly as he snarls at her. 

“Very well, Lady Rhea,” his father spat, “I’ll retake my post here and Byleth will become a professor. Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Rhea answered, her smile light, “Exactly so, Jeralt. I’m glad we have come to an understanding.” 

All gods, he learns, as she threatens his father into submission, are as wretched as they are terrible. He realizes this as he is unable to speak, unable to raise his voice for she is a goddess and he is not. For she has power and he has nothing. For she controls his father's fate and he cannot even control his own. 

He feels the stirring of an inferno within him and wishes that it could burn the goddess inside his head. 

_ “I am a goddess and you are a mortal, why complain when there is nothing that can be done?”_” Sothis laughs. _“Be glad that you have my interest instead, Byleth. You will find that it’s stronger than any weapon or magic that you mortals wield.”_

His father bows to her, with a stiff back and deadly frown. Like a lion, forced to kneel. Cowed into submission, unwilling and helpless in front of a god. 

This, he thinks, is how gods are, terrible and wretched. This, he thinks, is how gods take and how humans give. This, he thinks, is how blasphemous thoughts begin.

I want to see how a god dies, he thinks as he clenches his fist. I want to watch them fall from their throne and watch as they suffer in a divine torture. 

Sothis laughs. 

_“Keep me interested like so, mortal, and you will find that you can escape from death’s claws itself.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, some stuff changed from canon again bc I like this kind of dynamic more with gods being crueler and more merciless lmao. I hope you guys enjoyed it! 
> 
> Please leave a kudo, or a comment on your thoughts, what you liked, what you didn't like, just anything, really, to make my day!


	6. spite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later, when the historians wondered why Byleth had chosen the Blue Lions Byleth would like to answer that the answer was pure spite.

“Byleth,” Rhea said- crooned as she smiles up at him. “Are you ready to choose the house you wish to lead now?” 

He wasn’t. He didn’t even know what these houses were. Nor did he care. 

“Do you wish to have more time, then?” She frowns slightly. Her smile is still kind. Pretending that she was something more human than she was. Pretending that she wasn’t a monster underneath that veneer of a saintly woman. 

“No.” Perhaps it was said out of spite. To reject any idea she has to offer. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to do so. But Byleth finds that he didn’t care. 

“I see, well, which house will it be then?” Rhea gestures her hand towards him. “Both Professor Manuela and Hanneman have expressed that you will be given the first choice.”

Byleth frowns as he thinks. Remembering vaguely about the three nobles earlier. Dressed in red, blue and yellow. 

Three different nobles. Three different options. 

None too different from each other. 

_“They are very different, indeed.”_ A shiver raced up his spine._ “Even if you do not see it now.”_

What does that mean?

_“It means,”_ Sothis drawled._ “That your future depends on this decision.”_

He does not question how she knows. 

_“I do not know much, regardless. A blessing, that is. For all the fun will be ruined if I do.”_ Sothis laughs. _“All I know is that the house of the eagles will be the best fit for you.”_

“Which house is the eagles?” Byleth asked, glancing up at Rhea softly. 

“That’ll be the Black Eagles, lead by the Hresvelg heir, Edelgard,” Rhea explained. “Do you want to-”

“Not that one,” Byleth answered as he nods. 

Rhea frowns briefly but chooses not to comment. 

_“Going against me now, aren’t you.”_ Sothis laughs._ “Well, at least it’ll be interesting.”_

“What are the other two?” Byleth asked bluntly. 

“There’s the Golden Deer and Blue Lions,” Rhea answered. “One for the Alliance and the other for Faerghus.” 

_ “The Golden Deer will be most interesting, of course, but the Blue Lions-”_

“I’ll take the Blue Lions,” Byleth answered. Not needing to hear further.

_“So you chose tragedy.”_ Sothis laughs._ “I don’t have a problem with that.”_

Byleth feels his lips thinning. Perhaps he should’ve gone with the Golden Deer, after all. 

__

* * *

The boy in blue. Dimitri. Approaches him with eager eyes and shining smile and Byleth feels like his shoulder is pressed down my the heaviest of armor. 

“Hello, sir mercenary,” Dimitri greeted. Smile still gentle and kind. “Or, should I call you Professor, now.” 

Byleth shrugs finding that his shoulders are heavier than ever. 

“Professor it is then,” Dimitri concluded, nodding slightly. “I’m glad that you have chosen the Blue Lions to lead.” 

Byleth nods as Dimitri begins to lead him. 

“Is it presumptuous of me to presume that I had made a good impression on you?” Dimitri asked, his smile still soft and gentle. “I mean, I’m just curious as to why you chose the Blue Lions over the other two houses without even knowing its students is all.” 

Spite, Byleth thinks. I chose it because of spite. 

But that wasn’t a good answer, even Byleth knew that much. Byleth may not have the tact of his fellow mercenaries, but he _did_ know of common manners even if his father’s mercenaries would say otherwise. And Byleth, as much as they called him ruthless and cold-blooded, wasn’t so cruel as to crush the hopeful look on the boy’s face. 

“Yes,” Byleth lied instead. The lie was greasy and terrible on his tongue, but it was better than the alternative. 

“Oh, uh, I’m glad,” Dimitri said as a warm flush lights his cheeks. The boy scratches his cheek nervously as he laughs. It was a relieved laugh, Byleth thinks. A nice sound in contrast to the screams that Byleth was used to. “I mean, I’m glad that I have made a good enough of an impression on you to sway you to teach our house. All our students are excellent, of course, and all motivated to learn from such an impressive mercenary like yourself.”

_“What would you reckon he’d react like,”_ Sothis mused._ “If he were to find that he made no impression on you at all.”_

It wasn’t ‘no impression,’ as the goddess said. But it wasn’t enough to sway Byleth either. And perhaps that was why Byleth feels himself frowning. 

“Don’t,” Byleth said softly as he shakes his head. 

He sees Dimitri turns to him with wide eyes. Flush fading away already but his eyes were still bright and nice. 

“You don’t need to flatter me,” Byleth continued. Finding that the more the boy spoke the heavier he felt. The more thorny his throat and tongue felt. 

“It is not flattery, Professor,” Dimitri argued firmly. His head shaking as he leads Byleth to a room with blue banners hanging near the entrance. “Let me assure you of that.” 

Dimitri leads him inside, his smile still gentle. Different from the kind of ‘gentle’ that graces Sothis’ and Rhea’s lips. A kind of gentle that was less like hidden poison and more like the sun and flowers. 

_“How rude of you,”_ Sothis chided but didn’t sound any angrier. 

With long strides, they reached the center of the room. Wherein the rest of the students milling about focused on them. Eyes boring into his figure and their curiosity evident. 

“Hey, Dimitri, who you got there?” a boy, light reddish hair and amber eyes, asked as he approaches. “Is it a new student perhaps?” 

“He ought to be in uniform if that were the case,” a girl with forest green hair remarked. 

“Maybe his uniform hasn’t been done yet!” a girl with pigtails and cheery grin said. “Since he’s new and all.”

“I doubt that Annette,” Ingrid argued. “Garreg Mach would surely have spare uniforms and I don’t see-”

“Then maybe he’s a noble, then!” Annette continued. “So his needs to be tailored and all that.” 

Ingrid scrutinizes him. Looking up and down his body. “Well, his armor is certainly fine.”

“Noble-ish, right?” Annette nods, humming to herself as if pleased by her conclusion. 

“But that doesn’t explain why he hadn’t enrolled in Garreg Mach earlier,” Ingrid objected. 

“Well, well- hmm…” Annette frowns as well. “Huh, I don’t have an answer to that, what do you think Mercie?” 

Mercie laughs. “I don’t know much either, I’m afraid.” 

“Does it matter,” a boy snapped. “He’s here now, so what matters is if he’s strong or not.” 

“Man, Felix, you gotta loosen up sometimes, be more concerned with our new classmate won’t you?”

It seems that Byleth was being considered a ‘new student’ now. And Dimitri was looking more panicked as time goes on. Opening and closing his lips as he looks between Byleth and his classmates. 

“I mean he’s a fine specimen, you know,” the red-haired boy said with an odd grin and Dimitri keens. Trying to grasp for words that were refusing to escape his throat. 

Which- was an interesting look on him if Byleth were to admit it. 

“And since you’re not into the ladies, well-” A well-executed uppercut and Dimitri looks as though he were about to keel over. 

“Are there any other thoughts running through your head other than the lecherous ones?” Felix hissed. 

“Sylvain, thinking?” Ingrid shakes her head. Her braid swaying with the motion as she sighs. “I’m afraid you’re asking too much of him, Felix.” 

Felix huffs. “You know, you’re actually right.” 

“When am I not?” Ingrid smiles. It is a resigned thing. Tired and exhausted and filled with the exasperation of a woman who had repeated the same thing for eons on end. “Especially about Sylvain.” 

Sylvain frowns as he rubs his jaw. Hissing at his own touch. “How cruel. To be insulted by my childhood friends.”

“I’m ashamed to even be associated with you,” Felix snapped. 

“Ouch.” Sylvain shrugs soon after. “Tough crowd.”

Felix rolls his eyes.

Sylvain smiles once more. “So, as I was saying before about our new student and his-”

“Sylvain-” Dimitri choked out, finally finding his voice. “Do not go any further with that statement-”

“You’re attacking me now as well, Dimitri? What is this-”

“This is our _new professor-_” Dimitri said, aghast. 

“Huh.” Sylvain ponders the statement. “He’s still hot, though.” 

Byleth blinks. 

"Fucking mutt-"

_“Sylvain, no-”_

"Sylvain, yes-"

Excellent murder technique performed by Felix along with a decent assist by Ingrid.

_"Felix, no-"_

Sometime between Felix shouting, "Fuck you, boar!" and Dimitri attempting to remove Felix's chokehold around Sylvain's neck, Byleth wondered if spite was really a good reason to stick around.

"There now, Felix, I'm sure that Sylvain-"

"So... worth... it," Sylvain wheezed. 

Dimitri increases his efforts as Felix screeches and double down.

It turns out that no, spite was not a good reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Once again, writing the blue lions is pretty fun and sothis' relationship with byleth haha. they're in a hate-hate relationship rn and its not likely to change anytime soon lol. 
> 
> Leave a kudo and comment on what you liked, what you didn't, your thoughts, just anything, really, to super make my day! :D


	7. (not) silenced screams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or sothis has fun again and dimitri worries and mock battle talks.

Byleth awakens to a quiet morning. With warm sheets around him and a roof over his head. A stark contrast to the open sky and the thin, makeshift, blankets he was familiar with. The mattress was too soft and fine compared to the firm ground and it was a wonder that he managed to fall asleep at all. 

He does not hear Sothis this morning, perhaps she was asleep or merely idle and had no urge to talk, he does not know whether to be concerned or not. 

A silent Sothis was a blessing but at the same time a thing to be cautious of. For while she can read his thoughts, he cannot read hers. 

_ “... It is because you are a mortal,”_ Sothis said, hearing his thoughts like he knew she would,_ “And I am a goddess. How can you bear my thoughts?”_

As he slides on his armor, he thinks- briefly- of the divine torment that ran through his bones mere nights ago as his hand graces hers. 

Indeed, he thinks. It would be best for him not to bear a goddess’s thoughts. For he could not bear her death and the idea of having to carry the weight of her thoughts is enough to cause a headache. 

Sothis laughs, a mocking thing that was entirely too high pitched to be sympathetic._ “It would be a fun experience. But, alas, I do not know of a way yet.”_

Hopefully, never, Byleth thinks as Sothis laughs once more. 

“You goddesses and your definition of fun,” Byleth drawled softly, “I’m afraid my mortal mind cannot comprehend it.” 

A shadow passes over him as Sothis hooks her hand around his neck. “You do not need to understand.” She presses her lips to his forehead, a faux blessing. “You just need to entertain.” 

Byleth draws away from her as pain passes through him with the touch of her lips. Liquid magma rushing through his veins once more as he collapses to his knees, breathing deeply. His hands braced on the ground as though he was thanking her for the blessing she had bestowed upon him. 

For the heavenly agony she had given him with her kiss. 

Sothis laughs once more. Hands reaching towards him as he flinches. Giving another giggle as she pats his armored shoulder in mock consolidation. “Well, off you go now.” 

He stands up as his legs almost collapse once more as the pain flares up for a brief moment. But Byleth stands for he refuses to show weakness in front of her, not even when she knew of the pain running through his veins and is all the happier for such. 

Byleth leaves as Sothis waves him off, knowing that she would remain by his side, always watching.

Sothis’ laugh rings inside his ears, as if confirming his thoughts.

* * *

“Good morning, Professor,” Dimitri greeted evenly as the boy waved to him, his retainer by his side, “Glad to see that you’re an early bird as well.” 

Byleth shrugs, muscles twitching minutely beneath his armor as the odd flashes of pain rises now and then. Feeling no urge to speak more, he only says, “Habit.” 

“That is a good habit, then,” Dimitri commented, nodding slightly, “I know a few others who could… benefit from such.” With that, the boy gave a quick glance towards the second floor of the dormitory off in the distance, reserved for nobles. “Ah, nevermind, it’s just me rambling again.” 

Byleth nods, eyes focusing back onto the prince. “What brings you here?” 

“You dare to speak informally to His-” Dimitri raises a hand to stop Dedue’s upcoming rant. A long thing, that, if Byleth’s instincts were to be believed. 

“Dedue,” Dimitri said firmly, but not harshly, “the professor is just a man of few words, is all. He doesn’t mean any disrespect.” Dedue frowns, taking a step back, obviously still displeased but relenting. “Regardless, I do not want to be treated any differently here for being the prince and I would like to not remind you again, Dedue.” 

Dedue purses his lips, still not happy be nodding anyways. “Very well, Your Highness.” 

Dimitri gives a heavy sigh, shaking his head in not entirely faux disappointment. “I’ll get back to you later, Dedue.” Dimitri’s eyes flitted to his as the boy smiles amicably. “As for my intentions, I just wanted to talk to you about the Mock Battle that’ll be coming up this month.” 

Byleth blinks before nodding moments later. “I see.”

“Ah, so you did not know of it, then,” Dimitri remarked, strangely being able to read the way that Byleth’s face blanked slightly at the news, “I suppose I’ll let Seteth or Lady Rhea do the honors of explaining that to you.” Dimitri leans away from Byleth, still smiling. “Well, good day to you, Professor.” 

Dimitri then takes a few steps forward before pausing and turning around abruptly. “Ah, are you alright now?” 

Byleth only blinks at him, not understanding the question. 

“Oh, Dedue and I heard a scream earlier from your room,” Dimitri remarked lightly, “we thought that you injured yourself.” 

Byleth can feel himself freezing as his pulse stops. “Oh?” 

Dimitri frowns slightly, as though he could see the difference in Byleth’s stony expression. “You-” 

_“If he finds out, you know what’ll happen, right?”_

“I’m fine,” Byleth answered quickly- perhaps too quickly as Dimitri’s frown deepens. “Good day.” 

As he walks away he feels the prince’s stare on his back and Sothis’ laughter in his ears. 

If he wasn't wearing his gloves, he was sure that he would’ve dug crescent scars into his palms by now.

* * *

He was indeed informed of the upcoming mock battle soon after. Another reminder that he was now a professor and in charge of leading these noble youths to become stronger. 

Well, it wasn’t the worst task in Fodlan and it wasn’t all that terrible as he dreaded it would be. The students, his students, were at least competent. Or seemed as such, anyways. They were driven as well, some more than others. 

It could’ve been worse, is Byleth’s point. From his prior experience with other, less competent, noble children. 

“At the end of this month,” Byleth stated, looking up at Seteth for confirmation. The man nods, his arms crossed and mouth pulled down. Looking as though he’d seen through Byleth and is left disappointed with all he sees. 

“Yes.” Byleth nods at the answer as he turns to leave. Halting in his tracks as he bows to Lady Rhea before doing so, already hearing the pointed cough that would’ve come out of Seteth. 

Rhea, Rhea, on the other hand, looks as though she’d seen through Byleth and is left all too satisfied with what she sees. Looks as though she knows Byleth better than he knows herself as her eyes take on an unnatural sheen as she stares at him. Unnerving and feral. So much like the girl in his head. 

Rhea smiles, all too pleased and all too wide. So like a goddess. With divinity embedded in her that bones and age deep in her blood. Byleth almost recoils, feeling a phantom spark of pain, but his body stood still as he stiffly walks out. 

_“You know, she is familiar…”_ Sothis mused,_ “I think I knew her, once.”_

If there ever was a sentence that could strike fear into Byleth, that would be it. 

_“Oh, hush, it’s not like I remember anything, regardless,”_ Sothis sighed._ “Thinking about such pains me.”_

Byleth wonders what could hurt a goddess. What pain would there be to detract a goddess from regaining her memories. 

Sothis sighs once more. 

_“A divine torment, would be how you put it.”_

Byleth- at that moment- wishes that she would recover more of her memories. Just so she can feel how he does. Just so she can feel the same agony racing through her body, unrelenting and fierce. Like a fire that will not stop until her body is nothing but ashes, and even then. 

At the same time, he couldn’t help but fear the inevitable reality of her regaining her memory. 

He wonders if she’ll be just as monstrous- or worse- even more than she is now. 

It is a terrible thing, to realize that either way, there was no way for Byleth to be happy.

* * *

It was indeed a strange experience to stand in the middle of a classroom, looking at the faces of those that you were forced to teach only out of spite. A guilty experience as well, Byleth thinks as he fights the urge to fidget in his spot. 

“The upcoming mock battle,” Byleth began, “do you want to win.” 

Noises erupted right at that moment as his students began to speak up one after another; their voices drowning the other out. 

“Of course,” Dimitri said earnestly, back as straight as steel and eyes unyielding, “it would not do for-” 

“I will do whatever I can so that His Highness-” Dedue was interrupted by a severe glare from Dimitri that spoke more of disappointment than actual anger.

“What do you take me for?” Felix questioned, affronted, arms folded, “I will have you know that I-” 

“Woah, there, Felix, let hot Prof talk for a sec-” Felix turn to Sylvain with murderous eyes, “I mean- our Professor-” 

“Seiros, Sylvain, when will you learn?” Ingrid shakes her head, more disappointment. “Well, as for me, I think that we must at least _try._” 

“I mean, it wouldn’t do for us to _not_ want to win, right?” Annette argued, frowning cutely. 

“Of course, I mean, well,” Ashe stuttered, but his resolution was clear, as weak as it was. 

“Yes, yes, not winning is fine, but to not want to is…” Mercedes agreed firmly as she nodded. 

“It’s wrong!” Annette finished, chest puffed out and lips turned firmly downwards. 

The rest of the class agree with her, letting out mumbled affirmations, nods, or a shriek from Sylvain as Felix’s fist chased his face. 

“Good,” Byleth said, feeling somewhat better about nobles- or at least just his nobles- “I will try to lead you to the best of my ability.” 

Sylvain lets out a weak ‘Yay’ as Annette and Mercedes did a mock cheer that would’ve looked false if anyone else were to do such. Dimitri just smiles, happy and pleased, but his back stood no less tense. 

“Do not let me down,” Byleth said, repeating what his father would’ve said as he stared them down. 

Dimitri frowns once more, looking offended, “why, Professor, we will do nothing less.” 

Byleth smiles, this time. 

“Good.” 

For reasons unknown, perhaps a mere trick of the light, Dimitri’s cheeks seem to flush a fetching shade of red. 

“Yes, Professor,” Dimitri said, and oh- 

His smile was nice, Byleth thinks. Feeling something like heat rising, just a bit, for his veins were cold and his blood colder still. 

_“How cute.”_

Ah- and then his blood turned to ice once more. 

“Well, let the lesson begin.”

* * *

Byleth stood amidst his students. Dimitri, of course, had to be selected even if Byleth were not pleased with his performance. Though, that was not to say that Byleth wasn’t, for he could firmly say that Dimitri was, indeed, a good student. 

Dedue was the next to be selected as Byleth felt it wouldn’t do to separate the retainer from his prince. Not while Dedue looked so very pitiful, staring at the lineup as he pretended that he wasn’t desperate. 

Strangely cute for a man that towered over Byleth entirely. Cuter still, was the way that he had lit up as he was chosen; walking towards Dimitri’s side with quick steps as though afraid Byleth would take back his decision. If Dedue were to be a dog, or any such canine animals, his tail surely would be wagging as he stood by Dimitri’s side despite his placid face. 

With the more tactical element of having a student that would be able to endure hits, for Dedue had the built of a warrior and the skin of steel, too, as Byleth had found out. A trait that would be useful in battle. 

Next up would have to be Mercedes, the only one that knew how to heal within the house. She had performed well with her bow and Byleth did not doubt her survivability if it came down to it. But Byleth would definitely say that the main factor would have to be her ability to heal. For Byleth had seen good warriors and mercenaries alike, but he had never seen one that was able to survive a skirmish without a healer on site. 

Byleth had seen good healers as well and, without a doubt, he would say that Mercedes had the potential to be one of the best if not the best once Byleth goes through with her. 

The last decision would’ve been Annette, purely for the aspect of balancing out the physical and ranged fighters. With Annette also fulfilling the role of a magical attacker with physical attacks as well. 

Would’ve, was the word that Byleth used, from how Felix had wheedled his way onto the team. As Annette was a cheery and friendly girl and had easily given her spot to Felix was just nary a request and Byleth had only found out the moment that Felix had stepped onto the battlefield, smug as can be, and Annette was nowhere to be seen. 

If Byleth had compared Dedue to a canine, there was no doubt that Felix was a cat. Smug and prideful, prancing around once he got his way and glum and somber when he hasn’t. 

Byleth had let him remain, mainly due to the fact that Felix had looked the happiest out of the days that Byleth had seen him and was not a bad fighter himself. Dimitri had looked slightly happy to be fighting by his friend’s side as well and Byleth does not see the need to trouble himself and take Felix out. 

“Hello, Felix,” Dimitri said politely, but there was no hiding the happy smile that was worming his way to his lips, “it’s been a while since we’ve fought together.” 

“Fuck you,” Felix said none too politely, looking away from Dimitri. 

Oh, Byleth thinks, perhaps not the best idea as Dedue puffed out his chest in turn of the insult. “You dare-” 

“Oh, look, your lapdog,” Felix remarked airily, “he’s trying to speak human, just like you, boar.”

“Felix-” Dimitri reprimanded, his voice stern and firm. 

“Oh my, Felix, that’s not very nice,” Mercedes said, one hand covering her mouth as her eyes stare at Felix disapprovingly. 

“Fuck you,” Felix said as well, turning away in a huff.

Oh dear-

Felix lets out a yell as his leg was pierced by an arrow. 

“Oh my, it seems that I’ve accidentally shot you,” Mercedes said, more sarcastic than sorry.

“You fucking bitch-” Felix roared as he hobbled on one feet, unsheathing his blade_ towards his own ally._

The battle hadn’t even started yet. 

“Mercedes,” Byleth said, not knowing whether his voice sounded desperate or worried, or a combination of both, “please heal him.” 

Mercedes does not sigh but he can _sense_ the reluctance in her body as she leans down to heal Felix. Felix, who was hissing like a particularly angry feline. 

“Don’t touch me!” Felix yelled, waving his sword at Mercedes, although it came nowhere near to her. More of a scare tactic than anything. 

“Oh, Felix, just let me make amends, won’t you?” Mercedes said, sarcastic and taunting, “don’t be scared, it won’t hurt.” 

It was, at that point, that Dimitri had to physically restrain Felix. 

“Fuck you,” Felix said, although it wasn’t clear who he was speaking to, “fuck you both.” Ah, there it was. 

“Sorry, Felix,” Dimitri apologized, still holding Felix’s arms.

They still haven’t begun the fight yet and Byleth could just feel the eyes that were on them. Not that he cared but- 

“Fuck you!” Felix yelled, especially loud. 

It was at that point that Dimitri brought his hand to cover Felix’s mouth. 

Byleth felt like he should just abandon them and fight off the other two houses with himself and Dedue at this rate. Dedue who looked murderous but at least not involved. 

“Felix hold still-!” Dimitri grunted. 

“Yes, Felix, hold. Still.” Mercedes agreed and Byleth felt like he should just start the whole battle already- 

He looks to Rhea, and she looks back at him. Smiling sympathetically as she spots him. And, perhaps in a rare moment of mercy, she declares the start of the battle. 

As Byleth stands next to Dedue with the other three of his fighters still bickering from the back, he wonders if this was really worth it. 

The other houses looked back at him and he pretends not to feel their stares. He pats Dedue on the shoulder, part consolidation and part gratitude. 

“Well, let’s begin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed that chapter! started out dark but ended chaotic as per usual lmao. nothing can be sad forever and byleth is just going through it rn. dimitri may or may not be picking up on hints and sothis lowkey accidental matchmaker??? i love writing all these characters so mcuh lmao.
> 
> Regardless, if you enjoyed please leave a kudo and comment on your thoughts, what you liked, what you didn't, your rambles, your analysis, just anything to bring some sunshine to me haha. <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys will enjoy this fic. i have so many ideas for this fandom and too little time and talent to show them all. the idea of byleth being able to see how people die is pretty fun and i just have a weird obsession with byleth and death related things lol.
> 
> come and chat with me in my discord! code: BeQKa4J
> 
> please leave a comment on your thoughts, what you liked, what you didn't, your ideas, just anything is enough to warm my heart and motivate me!


End file.
